Some folks love summer. I prefer fall and winter. Why? Blame it on the food.
Already with the change of seasons, I’m a cooking fiend. There’s something about a fire crackling in the fireplace on an autumn night that sends me straight to the kitchen, bursting with ideas. The house is full of the aroma of winter squash roasting next to trays of sweet potatoes and pans full of Aroostook County Yukon Golds drenched in olive oil, tossed with Maine sea salt and fresh rosemary clipped from the fall garden. Roasted herb-crusted chickens fresh from a friend’s farm. Baked golden custards made with my turkey hen’s cache of eggs and sweet winter milk. Comfort food.
I’ve been pickling, canning, putting up, putting by, and storing everything I can get my hands on. The last of the green tomatoes are jarred and nestled on the shelf next to the heirloom lemon cucumber pickles. The pumpkins are roasted, canned purée ready to fill piecrusts and bake into breads all winter.
I’m proud to say I am not a mainstream shopper. Instead, I choose to raise goats for their milk and I turn a good portion of it into cheeses for myself and others. I’m blessed to walk out my door and pick heirloom apples from their branches while the girls dance around my feet. Gathering the remainder of my meals from like-minded folks who work to bring heirloom veggies, small-farm-raised meats, and a variety of other local foods to the table in turn brings me closer to people. I like that.
It takes time to raise good food. Hours of tending and weeding precious plants, feeding and caring for beasts through spring and summer. It also takes time to eat good food. I like knowing that, as long as my girls and I meet on a daily basis, I’ll never want for tall glasses of delicious milk. Butterfat content in the girl’s milk runs higher this time of year, so things are even creamier and tastier now. Likewise, while there are dry spells due to molting or to somebody deciding her eggs need to get converted into fluffy new chicks, I always have at least enough eggwash to brush on a freshly rolled piecrust.
Speaking of pies! The past season’s jars of mincemeat were screaming to me from the shelves last week. Twice now they’ve found their way into savory crusts brushed golden with a mixture of the girls’ sweet milk and the ladies’ neon yellow yolks. Who says mincemeat is just for the holidays? I hope our local mincemeat guru will be producing and bringing more to the Grange Hall Christmas Mart in—dare we say—just a few weeks. I’m down to one jar!
How do you resist the comfort of a hearty dish of mac and cheese brimming with a variety of local cheeses? Yes, I’m probably biased as a cheese maker, but I have to say that there are some unbelievably tasty and really good cheeses produced here in Maine. Nothing goes to waste in cheese making. Every meal is like a new adventure in tasting all the goodness that comes from the season.
Summertime is so busy, I find myself grazing through fresh salads filled with crispy greens. Cucumbers sliced wafer thin, marinated in freshly made chive blossom vinegar. Tomatoes of every shape layered on platters, sprinkled with fresh chevre, straight out of the cheesecloth bag.
Even so, fall and winter foods bring so much more flavor and color to the table. I lived in Florida for a brief time, and I remember missing the seasonal foods. Somehow, when it’s 90 degrees outside for ten months of the year, I’m just not inspired to throw a couple of sheets of gingersnaps in the oven. Living where foods change with the seasons, I find myself becoming more adventurous with flavors and textures of all kinds.
We’re expecting a Nor’easter here today, but not even the prospect of a winter storm is daunting when my belly is full of the season’s best. With fresh ginger harvested from a neighbor’s garden, I’m preparing for wind, rain, and cooler temps. After milking this morning, I popped some gingerbread into the oven. Gingersnaps are next. Goats like a little comfort food, too, when the storms are blowing out over the bay.
So I’m grabbing a dish, lighting the kindling, and hunkering down. Let the wind roar, the flakes blow. (Well, maybe not quite yet, but soon.) If you’re a summer person, I salute you. For me, it’s all about slow cooking, knitting needles flying, sitting by a fire lit early in the evening with a plate full of all the goodness the season has to offer.
Dyan Redick calls herself “an accidental farmer with a purpose.” Her farm, located on the St. George peninsula of Maine, is a certified Maine State Dairy offering cheeses made with milk from a registered Saanen goat herd, a seasonal farm stand full of wool from a Romney cross ﬂock, goat milk soap, lavender woolens, and whatever else strikes Dyan’s fancy. Bittersweet Heritage Farm is an extension of her belief that we should all gain a better understanding of our food sources, our connection to where we live, and to the animals with whom we share the earth.
ALL PHOTOS: DYAN REDICK